


It’s Britney, bitch.

by just_a_gay



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Canon, Shelby Goodkind-centric, The Unsinkable Eight (The Wilds), The Wilds, eventually, multi pov for now, toni shalifoe centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_gay/pseuds/just_a_gay
Summary: The gasp comes first, as soon as the door is pushed open by the detective. Then there’s about three seconds of full silence before Fatin’s footsteps break it. It isn’t until they’re both arms around each other grinning to the ears that Fatin speaks. “Damn, bitch! I didn’t think you’d go full Britney Spears circa 2007 on us!” It’s cheery, so Fatin, and accompanied by a curious hand stroking a bald scalp. “Shit, now I wish I could’ve kept my acrylics on.”//Post bunker, anyone?
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani & Leah Rilke, Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	It’s Britney, bitch.

CPS get involved. And of course they fucking do. Guilt eats away at Alex, so he blows the whole experiment, basically flips a big bird to Gretchen’s face and throws himself under the bus, so to speak.But not alone. Agent Young helps, for God only knows what reason. But it’s suspected that the mishap from a couple weeks prior, the whole allergic reactionduring which Leah attempted a risqué break-out -and was then locked into her room permanently- was also Agent Young’s doing. From there on it’s a mess -no, like, a bigger mess than it’s been before if that’s even believable. The girls are pulled from the bunker quicker than they can blink. Well, actually, they hear the chaos before they see it.The sirens blaring in the unit, the rushed footsteps and panicked hushes of “What the fuck is going on!” They catch glimpses of each other in the grey corridors, hear sirens, stern voices, statements of arrests. Some of them, depending on the timing, even get to witness the fuckers who ran this whole thing being cuffed. And,  _ fuck me if sweet revenge isn’t a thing _ , Fatin thinks then. When they talk about it later, every single one of the girls wishes she could’ve been a witness, too. Now the law is fucked up, this the girls knew. And if they didn’t know, they came to find out when they realized that after being left on a deserted fucking island to conduct a sick experiment meaning to establish matriarchy as a societal paradise -which, what?-, then kept in a bunker for who the hell knows even how long with constant interrogations, well it just fucking goes on. They step foot on American soil, and once again it’s isolation and interviews. Except this time, the parents are interviewed too. It becomes all too clear that the families didn’t know know just exactly what they were sending their girls away for. Martha’s mother is devastated, and Toni easily assumes it’ll gnaw at her until she goes. Dave fucking Goodkind has the nerve to scowl when a detective lets him know that conversion therapy has been banned in Hawaii for two years. And  _ it’s good _ , Shelby thinks. All the girls think.  _ It’s good, it’s a way out _ . This is a way out for all of them, they all agree subconsciously in the midst of all the questions and tapes and snacks. What is it with detectives and snacks, anyway? 

They’re cautious with what they say this time too. It’s all practical and evasive. Nothing personal is mentioned; not the breakdowns, not the madness, not the loneliness and definitely not the relationships. When they’re asked, they ask too. “Can I see them? I’d like to see them.” And when Leah is told her parents haven’t yet landed, she scoffs. She rolls her eyes, even. Asks the detectives if they’re that fucking dumb or if they’re just playing the act.Because her parents are the last people she’s asking to see right now. 

Gradually, every one of the girls start blocking the questions out. Basically, they pull a Shelby. Because why on Earth haven’t they been allowed to see each other, right? How evil is it that they were forced to spend the major part of a year stuck to the hip, and then were suddenly cut off with no given reason? Dot imagines that’s what it must feel like for conjoined twins who get separated at birth. Rachel thinks back to the moment she realized she’d just lost a fucking limb. This time though, they’re not made to wait long. Of course, their families get to see them first. And without an ounce of a doubt, both Fatin and Shelby refuse to be put alone in a room with their parents. The mothers are hurt, and the fathers incredulous. Toni and Dot reunite first, simply because “There’s no one coming for me, dude”.  _ These asshole detectives took pity on us _ , Toni comments later.

So it happens, in the small interrogating room of a giant building. They’re both holding a bag of Takis when the electrical switch of the door is turned off by a swipe card. Well, Dot’s is family-sized, and waiting open in her lap. And although Toni had imagined that seeing the girls again would be all bodies colliding and tears, seeing Dorothy chugging down a Red Bull and flipping through the pages of the Ultimate Survival Magazine makes her burst into laughter. Stomach-deep, bubbly, freeing laughter. No surprise, it startles the girl who had so far been absolutely captivated by whatever fishing skill she could’ve used a couple months back. But when Dot realizes who the laughter is coming from, she bolts. About as fast as she did when Shelby’s shrieks were calling ‘snake’. 

“Toni, holy shit!” Then comes the colliding of bodies. Well, it’s more like Toni’s frame being enveloped -and kept still- in a big, warm hug. It’s the safest either of them has felt in weeks. “Alright, alright dude. Back off.” Toni would’ve laughed in normal circumstances -not that the circumstances had ever been normal for them.But this time, she doesn’t. Truth is, the only hugs Toni has ever really received and accepted were Martha’s -occasionally her mom’s-, and then Regan’s. More recently, Shelby’s. Toni isn’t used to physical touch. Or, hadn’t been used to it. Which is funny because Martha’s always made a point of telling her that physical touch is her love language. But Toni didn’t have many people on the list of people that she loved. Turns out, six months crammed up with seven other girls on a deserted island changes a person. Especially if there’s a Fatin around. But as soothing as Fatin’s easy, simple affection had been time and time again, it’s Shelby’s touch Toni craves the most. So perhaps it’s a little selfish, but there in Dot’s arms, Toni can’t help but hope that soon it’ll be Shelby’s arms around her. She’ll cry then, she imagines. 

In a crazy, out-of-a-psychic-movie kind of way, Toni realizes Dot probably feels this, because she simply hugs tighter. Toni lets it last, lets the comfort wash over her like the waves did the night of the tide. But there’s no rush now, no crushing feeling that they’re losing everything. Time passes, and after quiet greetings and reassurances that both are doing okay, they find themselves sitting on the small sofa of the room, Toni with her knees propped up. 

“Have you heard about anyone else yet?” The question feels heavy, but the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach evaporates when Dot simply shrugs her shoulders at Toni. “Not since we were pulled from the unit. I heard screaming in the halls then, pretty sure it was Fatin and Leah trying to communicate over all the-“ Dot waves a hand around and pops chips in her mouth with the other. “-you know. Mayhem.” And the choice of words makes Toni laugh, bitterly if anything. They truly had been put through hell and back.  _ And we’re not even fucking done yet... _

They try to dissipate the subject when it feels too heavy to carry on, but every conversation usually ends back to the same worries. “Do you think they’re okay?”, “Isn’t it weird that we’re here but they’re not?”, “And Marty? Did you see her being taken?” Of course, every question is answered with a cluelessness that is so opposed to Dot’s usual knowledge of everything. But Toni makes herself bask in the presence of a friend _._ _If they got two, they got all of us. They got Shelby. And Marty_. 

//

The gasp comes first, as soon as the door is pushed open by the detective. Then there’s about three seconds of full silence before Fatin’s footsteps break it. It isn’t until they’re both arms around each other grinning to the ears that Fatin speaks. “Damn, bitch! I didn’t think you’d go  full Britney Spears circa 2007 on us!” It’s cheery, so Fatin, and accompanied by a curious hand stroking a bald scalp. “Shit, now I wish I could’ve kept my acrylics on.” Shelby can hear the pout even though it’s well over her shoulder, and she laughs. She laughs and cherishes how good it feels. “You are so ridiculous.” Shelby huffs, but then sighs truly, her eyes closing. Shelby always thought it was dumb how, in those romantic movies on the television -the ones with the straight, church-going spouses that her mother would put on while ironing-, at some point the pair hugged with their eyes closed like it would stop time. Now the comparison is flawed, because Fatin and her are friends, but still. Shelby closes her eyes and hopes the time will stop. Fatin asks questions had hoped not to hear. Of course she does, she’s Fatin. Shelby explains that her ankle healed just fine, asserting her statement with a rightful complaint about how they were kept in their rooms all day, everyday, so it couldn’t not heal. Then Shelby listens to herself explain how the whole Britney Spears look happened, recalls how a nurse checked her vitals upon arriving at the bunker, informed her that no hairdresser was coming - and “ Sweetheart, no one’s fixing that anyway _._ ”-  to which Fatin simply responds that it’s so fucked up, and that Shelby’s lucky to be rocking the bald head. Laughter erupts from Shelby when Fatin declares that she’ll be naming Shelby ‘Shelbald’ in her contacts as soon as she gets a phone, “With the little bald head emoji too.” And she’s so cheerful about it it makes Shelby surge forward and hug her friend again. 

Before Fatin brings up Toni, she asks Shelby about what she’s going to do about her parents. Her father. And Shelby refuses to cringe, because,  heck,  she’s suffered enough for a lifetime in the past year. But she cannot lie to herself, has to admit silently that she worries about having to go back home. And Shelby’s thought about it, is dead set on confronting the detectives to find out about the footage they hold, about whether or not it’s been or will be released, about how much they know of what went down between Toni and herself. She thought about confronting her father,about giving him shit for what he did to her. Not about the plane crash or the deserted island or the starving and almost dying. About the fucking conversion therapy camp. She decides, in that very moment, while blurting it all out to Fatin, that she isn’t going back to Dave Goodkind. That the trauma her parents have put her through will make her eligible to file for emancipation. Fatin promises she’ll pay for the fees and get a nice comfortable couch for Shelby to crash on. 

They’re silent then, content to have a friend. A sister even, just there, in the flesh, safe. But Shelby is no fool, can sense that Fatin’s tiptoeing around a way to bring the matter up in her mind. Wants to ask if Shelby’s been thinking about Toni, if they’ve had any contact, if she’s ready to talk about their bad blood back on the island and where they stand now. Shelby has none of the answers, so when the door swings open again, she thanks her Lord and instinctively reaches for her cross. One evening, time later, Rachel asks how she’s still even religious after all she went through. And Shelby’s only answer is a silent smile. 

And Rachel, she bursts into the room with so much enthusiasm. Fatin makes sure to point out, “Well, bitch. You’ve never been this happy to see us before.” It’s muffled by the force of the embrace in which Rachel pulls both girls, and only seconds later their hug is made a four-party because joins in after following in behind Rachel. 

Leah, she’s the first to break, and when her entire body begins shaking with raspy, broken sobs, it’s like a trigger. All four girl end up buried into each other, crying because they have months of pain to evacuate and it’s all so heavy and so much and so raw that it’s all spilling over now. It takes time for ithem to settle, Fatin being the first. “Come on bitches, we can’t let these motherfuckers see us weak.” She throws a look to the security camera hung to the ceiling in the corner of room, winks, and then gestures for them all to sit. Shelby does not miss the way Leah sits right at Fatin’s side, joins their hands together even. She says nothing, remembers how Rachel told them that sometimes she could feel Nora’s hand in hers around the fire one night, and then remembers how calloused fingers from years of basketball felt in hers. 

Shelby briefly goes over the whole “bald head” thing to Rachel and Leah, doesn’t go deep into detail and simply says it was too matted to save. And they accept it. They talk casualties for a bit, “How have y’all been feeling?”, “Do they treat you right?”and “The food was shit at the bunker and it’s even worse here, I kinda miss goat. Am I insane?” 

But then the air becomes thick and the delay heavy. So Rachel goes first, while gazing dead into deep blues. 

“I’m sorry.” She says and it’s genuine, and Shelby can tell because Rachel looks like there’s a hand around her throat, constricting her air flow, sending pain right to her eyes. It’s the tears, they’re caught in the back of her throat and Shelby feels sorry for Rachel in that moment. Not in the ‘ fuck this is so sad’ kind of way. In an empathetic way, because Shelby’s been wrong before. So many times before. She’s made mistakes and the consequences bit her in the ass. She’s had the tears choking her from within before. 

_Becca. Becca. Becca_.

For a time, -exactly twenty-seven seconds, Fatin counts in her head- Leah is silent, She sits and stares down at Rachel, who still looks like she wants to beat herself up with a spiked baseball bat. Something flashes before Leah’s eyes then. Shelby doesn’t recognize it at first, but when Leah offers Rachel a smile and a small shake of her head, Shelby understands. Forgiveness. Forgiveness given to the person who doubted her the most, and then sort of blamed Nora’s disappearance on her. 

They don’t talk about it though, neither of them wanting to remind the frenzy Rachel had entered once she had regained her senses after the shark attack. Don’t want to remember the screams of accusations thrown in Leah’s face, don’t want to remember the way Toni and Dot had had to physically keep Leah away so that they wouldn’t rip each other’s throats. Don’t want to bring up whatever the fuck did happen to Nora. So Leah simply accepts it, makes it obvious to Rachel that she accepts it, thanks her then. 

And what were the odds, right? That these detectives would put Leah in a room with the two people who believed her from pretty early on and the one who thought she was a fucking psychopath? It doesn’t matter though, not anymore. 

They don’t bring Martha either, even though Shelby and Leah both know things that the other four don’t. 

_Jeanette, Nora, Marty_. 

Nine down to six. _How fucking heartbreaking_. 

Shelby’s grateful then, in a way. Grateful that Toni isn’t here with them, because if Toni was here with them, Toni would ask questions and press the matter and Shelby knew she simply did not have it in her to lie to the other girl. She sends a silent prayer out, begs her God that Toni does not ask her about Martha when they reunite. _If_ they reunite. And it’s so selfish and she knows it and she hates herself for it. But Shelby thinks about the pain Toni has endured in her life, about how much  worse  this is going to be for her, and she cannot be the deliverer of that pain. Cannot rely approximate information and uncertain statements, not such heavy ones, not when they could break Toni’s heart. 

When Leah asks if any of them has seen their parents yet, Fatin and Shelby audibly scoff, in sync, because “No fucking way. We’re getting emancipated, bitch.” It makes Leah think about that time she’d confessed to wanting her mom to Fatin, feeling that the other girl had reciprocated. And Leah thinks maybe it was the loneliness and the gut-wrenching fear of being there forever, or maybe it was sweet empathy, because Fatin doesn’t seem like she’s ready to go back or even see her folks anytime soon. Shelby’s case isn’t as surprising, Leah decides. 

“Remind me to thank Dot later.” Rachel eventually says, “The medics. You know they said the scar was surprisingly clean for a surgery done with a hot wonky axe?” Giggles erupt, but Rachel carries on. “Like, I was basically preparing myself to go into the operation room and have it all re-done, you know? Chopping it straight, sutures, all that.” There is a visible wince plastered on Fatin’s face when Rachel shrugs, “But nah. It’s all good I guess.” She raises her hand up as if to show it, and Fatin sighs, “Ahh.. What would we have done without my favorite cargo pants-wearing survivor.” To which, obviously, all the girls agree because  _Dottie really did save our asses time and time again._

Just like that, their conversation shift towards something easier. The girls find themselves reminiscing, and although all of them would’ve been positive that the island would be a memory tucked away in the way back of their minds if it couldn’t be erased entirely, as it turns out, it isn’t this big scary monster that haunts them at night. The island itself and the wilds occupying it was never their butcher. 

_But being a teenage girl in normal-ass America_... 

Dot drops a bomb. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone 👋🏻  
> I don’t know why I wrote this or where the idea sprung from but it happened in sort of a frenzy and now it’s here.  
> First fic I ever post so don’t be too harsh on me 🥺  
> It’s multi pov for now but I promise it’ll get shoni-centric eventually!


End file.
